Truth Be Told
by nietzsche300
Summary: Seeing Quinn reinstated as head Cheerio has some new and interesting effects on Rachel that she's not sure how to deal with or micromanage. Meanwhile, Santana has a revelation about her relationship with Brittany. My take on this season. Faberry/Brittana
1. Realization

Just a little fun peace while working on my more serious peace. There may be a rating change later, I'm not sure yet. Enjoy! And please review!

Chapter One: Realization

She was more than aware of the fact that the whole hallway seemingly going quiet was a little bizarre. For one thing, all the students of McKinley High were between classes, so there definitely wasn't a lack of teenage bodies making there way to wherever they were going. Then there was the fact that Finn was standing directly in front of her, going on and on about something she knew she should have been listening to, but she wasn't. She couldn't. Not two seconds before, her ears decided that working was no longer necessary.

Quinn Fabray had rounded the corner, tightening her ponytail before placing her hands on her hips, and swinging them with an attitude that had long been absent. Her cheerios skirt swayed, contrasting her steely gaze. Rachel didn't think she had ever looked at her like that before. In fact, she was sure she hadn't. For the first time, she feel like she was really seeing _all _that was one Miss Quinn Fabray.

"Rachel?" Finn said, tilting his head as he peered down at her, but she merely sidestepped to get a better look at the scene unfolding.

First, seeing Santana approach Quinn, she thought perhaps they were having some sort of Cheerios reunion of sorts. Brittany was standing off to the side, holding her binder, and as expressionless as ever. Yes, she was sure they were welcoming Quinn back with open arms. That was, until Santana shoved Quinn against the lockers, immediately cuing the return of Rachel's listening capabilities. Not quite the family reunion she was expecting to see.

"You told Coach about my summer surgery," Santana accused, and what was different about her finally clicked. Rachel had been trying to figure it out, as they casually passed each other in the hallways, seeing that Santana still refused to do anything other than insult her, outside of the choir room. And, in the choir room really.

"A boob job," Rachel thought, "Aha!"

The two Cheerios continued to yell and insult one another; Santana going so far as to slap Quinn, until Mr. Shue finally stepped in. When Quinn yelled for Santana to walk away and tighten her pony—her words, exactly—Rachel was surprised to see Santana actually do it, literally. If she was just going to bow down to the chain of command she worshiped so dearly anyways, why even have the encounter at all? Brittany was right, they needed to stop the violence.

"Whoa."

She jumped, having forgotten that Finn was with her. "Whoa, indeed. I really hope they can get along during rehearsal, I don't want their fighting to get in the way of me presenting my idea for my solo at sectionals. This time, I'm going with..." And like that they were on their way, moving on as if nothing ever happened. Of course, she couldn't get the image of Quinn rounding the corner the way she had out of her head for the rest of the day, but those weren't things one would typically discuss with their boyfriend. Especially not when their boyfriend used to date the girl one couldn't stop thinking about.

* * *

"Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury said, in surprise. "What can I help you with?"

It had been two days since the hallway incident had happened, and her every thought seemed to lead right back to Quinn Fabray. Not even a night of Barbra could get Quinn out of her head. "Ms. Pillsbury, let me say that I find this whole encounter to be completely uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than the time you caught me trying to throw up in the bathroom, and said that I'd one day appreciate my lack of a gag reflex."

The counselor laughed nervously. "You remember that."

"Of course." She began to play with the ends of her plaid skirt, her eyes going anywhere but in the direction of the redhead sitting behind the desk. "The other day while Finn and I were discussing my insecurities about him being on the football team, and how he obviously _is_ in the line of sight of every cheerleader hoping to rise to the top, something very strange happened."

"You know, Finn may not realize it, but at his age premature-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Rachel said, raising her hands, and closing her eyes tightly. "I should have made it clear that the location of this conversation was very much in public, and there was no touching at all, which perhaps wouldn't necessarily prevent what you are trying to-" She shook her head, letting her hands drop, and finally looked at the counselor again. "This is about me. We were standing in the hallway talking when all of a sudden Quinn Fabray came walking down the hall. Having _just_ been reinstated as head Cheerio, I later found out. Now, it wasn't the first time I had seen her tighten her already seemingly agonizingly tight ponytail, and it definitely wasn't the first time I had seen that look of superiority, or the walk that goes with it, but...But this time, it was different."

Ms. Pillsbury frowned. "Different, how?"

She felt a little temperature rise in my cheeks, but was far from smiling. "It was like," surely she could come up with something better than an old cliché; time stopping, or whatever else that had been said in more than a handful of cheesy romance films. But only one really popped into her head. "Like there was only her...Like for a split second, I was completely consumed by her, and all she was doing was walking down the hall. I couldn't hear anything, or focus my attention on anyone, but her. I can't even remember what Finn and I were really talking about before I saw her. Is that...normal?"

"Well, how exactly did you feel when this happened? Sometimes the brain can be very tricky, I myself have some—issues, that sometimes surface at the most humiliating times. Not to say that you have any, but what I'm trying to say is that sometimes our brain can make us over do it when there are other things going on beneath the surface, that we ignore for a long period of time. Understand?"

Sometimes she wondered why Ms. Pillsbury couldn't just outright say what she meant, instead of giving some kind of comparison to whatever scenario, usually one involving her own issues, that may have somehow resembled what students came to see her about. "I don't think that this exactly qualifies as one of those moments." Moments that Rachel thought much resembled a nervous breakdown. "There's nothing that I've been trying to ignore, if you're suggesting that perhaps I've had sexual thoughts about other girls before—Let me rephrase that—I've never thought about a girl in a way other than the simple admiration of her outfit, attitude, or talent. Which are all good reasons to appreciate someone, I might add."

"Yes." She smiled, and it was one of the ones Rachel knew meant the counselor was nervous. She was rethinking her counselor visit. "Okay, well then, in that moment were you possibly admiring Quinn's attitude?" she asked, sounding as if she were questioning her own question.

Rachel wanted to ask her about her credentials, but she remembered her fathers saying something about the importance of being polite in a delicate situation. "No. If anything, I'd want to glare at her because of her attitude. Quinn Fabray, though she has had her softer moments, is not exactly known for being the nicest Cheerio. We have had plenty encounters over the years involving grotesque name calling, pornographic drawings of me in inappropriate places-"

"I've seen those," she interjected, but Rachel chose to go on.

"There is no way that I would ever admire her attitude. She's a firm believer in the supposed chain of command around here, and she has reminded me of that repeatedly. With the exception of her months of pregnancy, of course. I suspect, however, that regaining her title may lead to a horrible regression, in which I will have to suffer and endure lots of torment."

"Okay..." Again, she laughs nervously. Rachel wondered if was hard for Ms. Pillsbury to keep her eyes from widening when she was nervous, the hugeness of them was often distracting. "How about her outfit? Have you ever perhaps wanted to be a Cheerio? Maybe a lot of feelings were brought back to the surface."

"I may not be the most popular girl in the school, but I'd rather be where I am on the social ladder, than become another Cheerio. I mean, I don't understand why they'd rather have reputations of being anorexic sluts, than a nice girl who just doesn't fit into the social norm." This was something she was sure Ms. Pillsbury could appreciate, she herself wasn't exactly the norm, in terms of the other faculty staff members. How people didn't see the lunacy that is Sue Sylvester, she would never understand.

"That leaves talent. We could both agree that Quinn is quite talented. She is not only a Cheerio, but a fellow Glee member." She smiled brightly, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she believed she had just discovered the truth that lay beneath all her problems.

"I don't think that's it. Sure, she's a great Cheerio, if you're impressed by yelling and twirling, and she can sing well, but I am a far more superior singer. And I have no desire to do flips, or to be tossed high into the air only to then rely on your teammates to catch you. Especially when these teammates are known for being alcoholic drug abusers, who don't eat sufficiently, and who have probably slept with the entire school. I don't think that shows how responsible they are, that's for sure."

They both stared at each other for a moment, as Ms. Pillsbury tried to find a way to get through to the teenager before her. It wasn't the first time a student had come to talk to her about their attraction to someone of the same sex—though she was surprised to be talking to Rachel Berry about same sex attraction-the only thing was, these other students had actually (basically) admitted their attraction. She wasn't sure what to say to someone who was entirely unsure of what they felt about someone, or in this case what they felt when they saw them. The possibility of it being something other than attraction, as Rachel was claiming, seemed slim.

"Well," Ms. Pillsbury began, breaking the silence. "Rachel, the thing is-" Before she counselor could finish her sentence, someone bumped into one of the glass walls of her office, drawing their attention.

Rachel turned in her chair, frowning when she saw Brittany beginning to walk away, rubbing her reddening forehead. Suddenly, she got an idea. "I'm sorry," she said, turning back to Ms. Pillsbury. "Perhaps we can revisit this conversation at a later date. Say tomorrow, during my lunch?"

Nodding, she cleared her throat. "Of course."

Rachel stood up quickly, as the woman tried to tell her to have a nice day. "You too," she yelled behind her, as she exited the office. If there was anyone who could possibly help her understand what was happening, it was Brittany. Sure, at first the logic may not have been so apparent, but if what Ms. Pillsbury had been insinuating was true, than there was no one better to ask than Brittany. "Brittany," she called, spotting the Cheerio around the corner. The blonde stopped, and looked around, obviously unable to spot who had called her even after she had looked directly at Rachel. "Brittany," she called again. "Wait."

Brittany stood still, holding her binder in front of her just as she had when Quinn and Santana were fighting. "Oh, hey. Is it time for Glee?"

"What? No, it's only first period, Brittany." She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the odd question, that wasn't so odd coming from the blonde. "I was hoping that maybe we could have a quick chat."

"Well, I'm not sure what class I'm supposed to be going to, but I doubt there will be any computers in it. Last time I was in one of those classes, my computer exploded," she deadpanned.

Yet another thing she had to ignore. "Okay, well can we talk for a second?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Are you going to ask me to do another video with you? I really liked those wings we used."

"Unfortunately, not. But, I will consider asking on a later date. Perhaps my myspace page could benefit from-" Again, she shook her head. "I was wondering," she stepped closer, lowering her voice a little. "Have you ever suddenly gone deaf when you were looking at Santana?"

Brittany frowned. "Deaf like those kids from that one school?"

"Yes. Well, no not exactly." Rachel thought it was impossible for the crease between the blonde's brow to grow deeper, but she was wrong. "Yes, just like that," she said, figuring 'the simpler the better' was her best route while talking to Brittany.

"Hmm." Her head tilted as she slightly looked up, really thinking about the question. To Rachel, it seemed as if the other teen were actually going through every moment she had spent with her fellow Cheerio, and that was something she knew would take a while. However, Brittany quickly looked back to the short brunette. "I don't think so. Why? Do you?"

"Oh God no," she huffed. The situation with Quinn was bad enough, if it would have been Santana that had lead to her sudden loss of hearing, she really would have been a mess. There _would _have been a nervous breakdown, much resembling the one she thought about while talking to Ms. Pillsbury. "I was just wondering is all."

"Oh, okay. Well, bye," Brittany said, giving a small wave before turning to walk away.

Rachel was at a loss. There was no doubt in her mind that Brittany was head over heels for Santana, whether the girl was able to see it herself or not. Surely then, the blonde would have had such a moment. Then, she thought to herself, had she had that moment with Finn in the past? Certainly! Which only meant one thing—She _was _attracted to Quinn Fabray. Perhaps she hadn't thought to compare what had happened in the hallway to her moments with Finn, or seeing him from a distance, because she had deeply encased herself in a pool of denial. It didn't matter anymore though, because now she was flooded with realization.

* * *

Later that night, Brittany sat at the head of her bed drawing ducks on her homework assignment, while Santana was laying across the end of her bed actually doing her homework as she kicked her feet. "San?"

"Yeah, Britt?" she asked, looking up from her homework.

"Do you ever go deaf when you see yourself in the mirror?"

Squinting her eyes at the blonde, she slowly sat up. "What are you talking about?" Usually, she could understand Brittany's randomness, or at least knew when to brush it off all together, but this question seemed a little different. It was a little _too_ bizarre, while also seeming to hold some kind of actual logic.

"Today, Rachel asked me if I ever go deaf when I see you, so I was wondering if you went deaf when you saw yourself." She wasn't sure why Rachel's question had been bothering her all day. Usually, she couldn't remember most things people said to her at all, let alone all day. Unless, it was Santana, of course.

"Berry asked you what?" At first, she thought the little weasel was indirectly making fun of Brittany, and her mind started to fill with thoughts of how many ways she was going to make the diva feel her wrath. However, after a moment, something else occurred to her. "She trying to say I'm loud, or something?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes, with the wave of her hand. "'Cause we already know that. But that doesn't mean she gets to go around talking shit. You got something to say to me, I say bring it."

"I don't think that's it San." If there was anyone to learn from about insulting people, it was Santana. The Latina girl didn't shy away from saying whatever she thought about _anyone_, and seeing that Brittany was around Santana _a lot_, she knew what an insult _really_ sounded like. What Rachel had asked her didn't seem like an insult at all. "Anyway, she didn't even say it loud enough for other people to hear, like you always do."

"Damn straight," she proudly stated, with a stern nod. "Look, we both know Rachel Berry is a freak." Her lips curved into a sultry grin, and she pushed her books and spirals off the end of the bed before crawling towards Brittany, who looked confused by her actions at first but then began to smirk in understanding. "Why waste our time talking about Manhands," Santana said, pushing the blonde's spiral off of her lap and onto the floor. She acted as if she were going to kiss the other girl, but stopped, their lips almost touching. "When we could use our own hands for something...satisfying."

Just when Santana started to lean in again, Brittany put her hand on the brunette's chest to stop her. "Wait, my door's not locked."

She nearly fell into the headboard when Brittany suddenly got up, sliding out of the way as she tried to kiss her again, not caring about the door—Though she knew she should have. As she unzipped the side of her own Cheerio top, she turned to watch her best friend hurry to lock the door before turning around to face her, the smirk on her lips ever present. The blonde moved to let down her ponytail, and that's when it happened...

As long blonde locks came loose, Santana's world slowed. She could no longer hear the sound of whatever cartoon Brittany's little sister was watching next door, nor could she hear whatever Brittany had said to make herself giggle the way she was—not that she could hear that either. Her heart started pounding in her chest as she dumbly watched the blonde walk over to the side of the bed, but then something brought her out of her haze, and it wasn't the feel of Brittany's hand sliding from her shoulder to the back of her neck in attempt to pull her in for a kiss.

She too had a moment of realization. "Berry has a crush on me!"

**TBC**


	2. Species Interaction

Hello! Wow, thanks so much for all the awesome reviews. I've never _really_ written fic for a show that was still on the air haha, so it was amazing to get such a rush of feedback, and alerts, and etc. They were all so great! Now, on with the show.

Chapter Two: Species Interaction

The next day, with her books held tightly against her chest, Rachel took a deep breath before entering the school. She needed to be prepared. To successfully reach the level of preparation needed to face the day in front of her, but it seemed nearly impossible. Entering the school, she walked at a pace that was even faster than her normal pace, and it wasn't because she was trying to avoid yet another slushie to the face. No, a slushie to the face would be just fine with her, if it meant that she'd be able to skip _all_ of first period.

All night she had laid in her bed, staring up the at the stars that glowed on her ceiling, panicking internally. It was what she had done all day; from the moment she had realized that what Ms. Pillsbury had first insinuated about her was in fact true, which made it possibly impossible to make it through the rest of the day. More than once, she had considered going to the school nurse and feigning a severe illness, but she had resisted. That was, until glee class.

_She and Finn had walked into the choir room, arm and arm as usual, except she wasn't doing her usual doting over her extremely tall boyfriend. Her eyes immediately landed on Quinn, who was sitting with the other two Cheerios in the front row. Not their usual choice. The three of them were laughing about what she assumed to be some kind of crude joke, since that seemed to always be what was coming out of their mouths, especially when they were all together. Suddenly her hands felt a little clammy, and she was sure that the room temperature was slowly rising. When Quinn looked at them as they took there seats, Rachel's heart began to beat rapidly._

_"Oh no. No no no." But of course, Finn sat down on the front row, leaving only one chair open. The one right next to Quinn. The blonde had already gone back to talking to Brittany and Santana, but it didn't make Rachel any less nervous. "Okay, I can do this," she thought, quietly taking a few deep breaths, and trying not to glance over at the blonde beside her. Finn had begun to talk to Puck about the woes of not being on the football team anymore, something she typically would have taken a moment to appreciate, because she had always worried about the teenage boy leaving her for someone a bit more popular. A Cheerio someone. She now found that too be painfully ironic. _

_When Mr. Schuester walked in, last as usual, the room quieted. Quinn opened the notebook in her lap and began to doodle, as the man tried to impress upon them yet another genre of music none of them listened to, except for Rachel of course, but she wasn't paying attention to the man either. Her fight to keep her eyes forward was slowly waning. She sat up straighter, looking around the room to see if anyone was watching her, knowing it wasn't likely but taking the necessary precaution before she gave in entirely, looking at the blonde out the corner of her eyes. _

_She noted the way Quinn was biting her bottom lip as she focused on whatever she was drawing, the way her slender neck bent slightly, obviously giving away the fact that she wasn't paying attention at all. Her slender shoulders were slightly hunched, the smooth skin of her arms calling out to Rachel-she had to wring her hands together in her lap to fight the temptation. Then her eyes landed somewhere unexpected, or more unexpected. She found herself watching the rising and falling of Quinn's breasts. _

_"Huh," she thought, having never really stared at another girls breasts, not even Santana's despite her curiosity in terms of whether they looked real or not. Now, she understood why Finn had such a hard time keeping his hands away from such areas. She began to wring her hands more aggressively._

_"Is there a reason you're staring, Berry?" Quinn asked, turning her head to look directly at the brunette._

_Suddenly, feigning sickness was no longer an issue; she began to overheat, her eyes wide, heart beating hard against her chest. She was sure she was about to vomit, too. Her hand shot into the air as she looked to Mr. Schue. "Nurse!"_

So, the following day, as she tried her best not to break out into a full on jog, she prayed that she wouldn't see Quinn until it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for her, the encounter was soon approaching, because they had the same first period class on this day. However, seeing that the class had more students, and therefore more chairs, she was sure that she'd be able to select a seat on the opposite side of the room as Quinn.

Cautiously looking around, just in case the blonde was near, she stumbled slightly after bumping into the back of someone. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't-"

"What the fu-" Santana stopped, eyes widening when she turned around to see who had bumped into her, of all people. "Berry?" Her revelation from the night before came rushing back to her, having been pushed aside once she realized what it meant to have had a 'deaf' moment herself with Brittany.

The cheerleader looked more appalled to see her than usual, and Rachel was sure she was about to get insults thrown in her direction. "Santana, I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching-"

"Whatever, Berry," she interjected, raising her hand to silence the girl. She pursed her lips, looking the shorter girl in the eyes through her own slanted eyes, trying to see if she could catch rather or not the diva had bumped into her on purpose to feel her up. But Rachel looked terrified, as usual, and not in a Jacob Ben Israel pervy kind of way. "Just watch where you're going."

"Uh, okay. Yes, yes I will watch where I'm going from this point on, and-" The Latina simply walked away from her, leaving her confused, and relieved at the same time. "That was odd," she mumbled, but she sure wasn't going to question it. She considered it a blessing, and perhaps a preview on how smoothly her day would go. Continuing on her way, more determined than ever to get a see no where near Quinn Fabray, she saw Dave Karofsky shove Kurt into the lockers as he passed. She offered her fellow glee clubber a sympathetic smile, which he returned before walking off.

When she arrived at her class, she held her books against her chest tightly once again, before peering in. Instantly, her jaw dropped. Everyone was already in class. For once in her life, she was the last one to arrive to a class (other than glee, because everyone was late to that class _at least_ once), and not only that—The only seat left open in the room was right next to the person she was hoping to avoid at all costs. She cursed the school for not putting actual desks in every class, and was set on filing a complaint with Figgins. No room that wasn't a lab of some sort should have had tables for two. She considered asking someone if they wouldn't mind trading their seat for a seat next to the head Cherrio, but her popularity status deterred her. Sure, someone in the class did possibly want to sit next to Quinn, but they weren't going to exchange _anything _with the likes of her, despite the opportunity.

Determined to not walk over to the blonde without at least appearing to be her normal self, she stood up straighter, held her head up high, and then made her way over to the table. She stood next to the chair beside Quinn, who was doodling in a spiral once again, clearing her throat before speaking. "Hello, Quinn." Happy that the blonde didn't look up at her, because then she would have lost her composure, she ignored the fact that she didn't even get a polite response. "Is it okay if I sit here?"

"What are you going to do, sit on the floor if I say no? Because if you are, I may have to decline."

Rachel frowned. Yep, she was definitely talking to the _old_ Quinn Fabray. "Perhaps what comes out of her mouth will make me less attracted to her," she mused. "Well, if you're going to-"

"Just sit down, Berry," she said, still focusing on her doodling. "Try not to stare at my tits today."

She found herself choking on nothing, and before she could defend herself, or lie like she was really thinking of doing, the teacher began to write on the board.

"Today," the woman began, as she continued to write on the board, "we're going to discuss the project that I'll be assigning. You'll be working with a partner, and before any of you even ask, no you cannot choose your partner. I hope you all sat next to someone you like, because that is who you'll be working with over the next two weeks."

Now, Rachel was really panicking, and she was sure the universe hated her. There was no way that she could possibly work with Quinn.

"You should probably get started tonight," the teacher said, taking her seat. "It's a project with multiple parts, so the sooner you start, the better."

Quinn looked over at Rachel, who's eyes were wide in panic. She sighed. "Great."

* * *

Santana did not panic. Panicking was for people like Rachel Berry, who didn't have the guts to do anything other than sing and talk about herself for hours. "God, what if she tries to sing to me in glee?" she thought for a moment, as she walked down the hall. Really, she had hoped to avoid the shorter brunette until it was absolutely necessary, along with a certain blonde. And, it wasn't because she was panicking; no, she didn't panic. She just wasn't so sure what to do with what had happened the night before.

"So I was thinking," Puck said walking up beside her. "Maybe you and the Puckasaurus could get together after school."

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Not a chance." There was no way she was going to spend all afternoon with Puck, even if she had thought of testing the waters with a male sexual partner, just to make sure she could still appreciate one. A teenage boy, she figured, wouldn't really help answer that question. "Beat it Puckerman."

"Come on, you know you want to," he smiled, trying to put an arm around the Cheerio, but she pushed it away. "What's up with you? Usually, your hands are all over this."

Santana was about to tell him what a lie that was. Sure, they had sex on pretty much a regular basis, but in no way were hands _usually _all of her him. It was totally the other way around, but she didn't get the time to protest because at the far end of the hall Brittany had turned into her line of sight. She quickly moved to put her back against the end of a row of lockers, pushing herself against the wall, so she wouldn't be seen.

Puck looked at her, frowning. She glared at him. "Say something, I dare you to," she warned. He just shrugged and walked away, to her relief. Now, to the average person her actions may have seemed a little on the panicking side, but to her it was just a quick attempt to continue avoiding her best friend for just a little while longer. She had planned to be a bit late to glee and everything, Mr. Schue was late all the time, so why not her?

"Hey San."

Of course, Brittany had walked directly up to her somehow. She was sure she hadn't been spotted. But she didn't freak out, or try to run for it. "Hey," she said, removing herself from the corner. Her eyes went into their usual squint, lips slightly pursed, attitude in her stance. Okay, so maybe that was a slightly more aggressive stance than she usually had when it was just her and the blonde, but whatever.

"So, do you want to walk to glee with me?" Brittany asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. After Santana's outburst about Rachel's supposed crush on her, she had tried to tell her best friend that she really didn't think that was it, because Rachel had said that she never went deaf when Santana was around, but her best friend hadn't believed her. Saying something about the diva being to embarrassed to fess up just like that. So, now she was actually a little excited to see just how uncomfortable the two would be around one another. Santana was never uncomfortable, it was like a once in a life time opportunity.

She couldn't exactly say, "No, I was going to be late so I could avoid you for a few more minutes," so she nodded, instead. "Sure." The blonde held her pinky out expectantly, still smiling down at her, and Santana gulped. Her whole demeanor changed, all of a sudden she was nervous. She looked down at the floor, her eyes shifting from left to right, knowing that Brittany was still staring at her from above, her pinky still being offered. Finally, she just gave in, and linked it with her own.

"Let's go, we don't want to be late," Brittany said, leading the way. It was strange, usually Santana was the one who initiated their walks down the hall, but she was okay with doing it herself for once. She was sure the Latina was merely dragging her feet, trying to avoid all that was Rachel Berry. "It'll be fine, San," she assured.

But she wasn't so convinced. With their pinkies linked, she began to wonder what it would be like if their fingers were intertwined, palm pressed against palm. And that's what she had been afraid of all morning; the wanting more. After they had had sex the night before, she had laid on her back staring up at the ceiling, with Brittany's head on her shoulder and arm draped across her midriff, thinking about how different it had felt. It wasn't like they hadn't done it plenty of times, Brittany was pretty much just as much of a regular as Puck was, but something had felt weird. Her confidence hadn't been up to her usual standard. She hadn't necessarily fumbled around aimlessly either, but there was no animal like rush. No sassy sexiness. And when it was all over, she actually contemplated staying, and not in a best friend sleep over kind of way, but in a I could stay here forever kind of way.

Of course, she had slipped out immediately after that thought, leaving the sleeping blonde. Now, as she glanced up at her as they entered the choir room, she knew everything had changed. They took the two seats open on the top row, their pinkies coming undone. Ironically enough, Mr. Schue was already in the room, going through a few of the music he had made copies of for their next assignment.

Rachel and Finn walked in, and Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Not only is Berry a freak, she's a total masochist," she whispered, loud enough for Brittany to hear. How was it that a girl that she tortured on pretty much a daily basis had a crush on her?

"I don't think that's a mask," Brittany said, frowning as she stared at the diva. "Do you think it's like that creepy Goosebumps book you read me last Halloween, where the mask was stuck to her face and she didn't know what to do?" she asked, a little scared, therefore unable to appreciate her best friends uncomfortableness.

Boring that book from her older brother had totally paid off that night, Brittany had practically tried to mold herself to Santana's side. Scary movies didn't do much for the blonde, but for some reason hearing someone read a book from the horror section freaked her out. "She likes people that hurt her, Brittany."

"Oh." She paused. "Is that normal?"

"Not at all," Santana answered. She watched as Rachel and Finn went to sit down, and was surprised when the diva didn't even try to sneak a peak in her direction. "Hmm," she said, watching as the couple began to talk about something between themselves. Then she looked to Quinn as the fellow Cheerio entered the room. She was heading for the chair in the row below them, walking up the stairs, and that's when Santana caught something she didn't expect to see. Rachel had started to ignore whatever Finn was saying to her, and instead was trying to discretely watch Quinn walk up the few steps to the row. "Oh my God, Berry just checked out Fabray's ass."

"What?" Quinn exclaimed, catching what Santana said. She turned on her heels, just as Rachel turned away. "Berry, you better not have just-"

"Okay, everyone take your seats," Mr. Schuester said, straightening the papers in his hand on the piano. "Today we're going to be talking about—Yes, Rachel?" he sighed, seeing her hand go into the air.

"I'm afraid I'm not feeling so well," she said, nervously.

"I bet she isn't, she just got caught in the act," Santana laughed. She found that the truth that had just unfolded brightened her day, and distracted her from the blonde sitting beside her. This was something she could work with; new ammo as it seemed.

"I'm sorry, Rachel, but you seemed fine a second ago when you were talking to Finn about whatever romantic dinner he was trying to plan, so I can't let you go to the nurse," the man said, frustrated with the fact that Rachel never seemed to try to ask questions _after_ he was done talking. "Plus, this is a rehearsal, as in after school so the nurse has already left for the day."

She blushed slightly, as a few of the glee clubbers chuckled. Really, she could have just left then, but missing yet another day of glee didn't seem like the right thing to do. She had her future career on Broadway to consider, and not getting enough practice only hurt a star in the end. What made things even worse was the fact that later that night Quinn was coming to her to start their school project. She looked at Quinn over her shoulder, and was surprised when the blonde pointed towards the front of the class without even looking at her.

"I swear to God, Berry..." the Cheerio said, not too loud but loud enough, as Mr. Schue began to write something on the white board.

Rachel turned abruptly. "Right."

**TBC **

A/N I swear these chapters will be getting longer, but it's a busy week with all my friends back in town from school, so I can only offer a little here and there. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Oh and sorry for any typos, I'm totally in a rush today.


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